I scowled down at the dress on my bed. I hated wearing dresses! They were
so confining, and tights were so itchy! But today was the marching band
awards dinner, and it was at a really fancy place, and I had to dress
fancy. So I picked about the only fancy thing I owned: a gray dress with
two white lines down each side, with a light pinkish sweater. Hey, it was
the best I could do. I called Alora earlier to ask her what she was
wearing, and she replied that she was just wearing nice pants. Luckily her
parents allowed her to do it. . . my parents were still living in the
1960's and believed that fancy dresses should be worn to every nice
occasion.
Reluctantly I got into my dress and tights, knowing that it was for the marching band I was doing this; not for my 1960's parents, of course. I continued to scowl as I yanked on the small dress shoes that made my feet look pointy. This was insane! Why did they have to have the dinner at a fancy place, anyway?
"Christine, are you ready?" Mom poked her head into my room, looking at me exasperatedly. "It's nearly 7:00! The dinner is in less than fifteen minutes!" "Yeah, I know." I said, giving a final yank on my shoes. "Toss that fancy purse thing in here, will you?" I asked. My mom sighed and threw a white fancy-ish purse onto my bed. Alas I could not use my regular purse, so my mom gave me a fancy thing to keep my junk in. "Thanks." I said, shoving my junk in the purse and snapping my watch onto my wrist.
"Alright. Let's go!" My mom was eager to go. I flicked off my light and left my room. Dad was waiting, and he was wearing a *gasp* suit. "Ready for the awards?" He said, smiling. "Um. . . I guess so." I replied as dad opened the door to outside. "I've never been to an awards dinner before so I don't know what's going to happen." "Awards?" My mom offered helpfully. I sighed and stepped outside, the winter wind battering my face.
It didn't take long to drive there, only about fifteen minutes, and I really did get there on time. Luckily Cara found me as soon as I came in and ushered me into the room we were supposed to be in. "You wait here. I'm going to find the rest of the guard." Cara said to me. "Mr. and Mrs. Vendredy, you can sit with the rest of the parents." My mom and dad nodded to me and Cara, and then went off to where the parents were. "Be right back." Cara patted my head (why? What is it with patting 8th grader's heads?) and went off into the crowd, leaving me standing alone by the entrance. I looked around blankly. It was very odd to see all the marching band dressed in finery. . . usually they wore uniforms or muddy clothes from the practice field. I couldn't see any of the other guard members and who knows where Cara had went.
"Christine!" Oh thank god, Alora. I turned to see Alora coming in, wearing her nice pants and waving at me. "Did you just get here?" She asked. "Yeah. Where're your parents sitting?" Alora looked over the heads of the crowd. "Over there." She pointed. "I was looking for you, with Talie." She said, pointing to Talie who came in behind her. "Hey." Talie said. "See any other guard members?" "I saw Cara, but I dunno where she went." "Alright. I'm going to find us a table." And then Talie disappeared into the crowd as well.
"Well then." I said. Me and Alora didn't have long to wait, for soon Talie and Cara returned with Alisa, Kat, Carrie, Christian (still, the only guy), Shelley, Chrisabel, and Maggie. Nelly wasn't here yet. "Is she coming?" Asked Carrie. "Yep." Replied Alora. "Come on, I found us a table. Let's sit down at least." Talie led us over to the guard table where we all spread ourselves out. I sat next to Alora and she saved a spot next to her for Nelly. Nelly soon arrived and sat down with us. . . now the entire guard was here.
The lights dimmed. Mr. Piquano got up to the front pedestal, and called the two drum majors up. "What now?" Alora whispered. "Mr. P's going to say some speeches, and stuff, and they'll give out awards." Cara whispered on my left.
Well, she was right. Mr. P gave some speeches on the year, and about the graduating seniors. He gave out awards to the parents who were involved with the band all this season. Then he said, "Now. The first years will get a certificate, second years a varsity letter (people went "oooh" at this), third years their gold bar, and fourth a rams letter (rams was our school mascot)."
"That's us!" Carrie hissed. "First years!" The drum major, Penelope, got up and began reciting the names of the first years. "Alora Julia Jeter," She announced. Alora turned to grin at me, and then went up. Mr. P handed her her certificate. She grasped it, suddenly nervous (because now, you see, we were in front of people) and took her place in line with the other first years. Mr. P continued. "Nelly Lemnos," He called. Nelly saluted me and then walked up to get her certificate, carefree and happy as always. Finally, I heard my name called. . . "Christine Vendredy," I got up, hearing the guard applauding me as they applauded Alora and Nelly. I took the certificate from Mr. P, seeing my name written on it, then went to stand next to Alora and Nelly. Even though my name was farther down the line than theirs, we were pretty close because there weren't a lot of first years.
"Congratulations, first years!" Mr. P said. All the parents and band members applauded us first years, and Mr. P sent us back to sit down. The three of us sat, placing our certificates in front of us proudly.
The second years went, then third, then fourth. Once those awards were given out, Mr. P decided to show the championships video. "Ugh," Shelley said. "We suck at the championships video." Well I hadn't seen the video yet, and wanted to. So he showed the video (which I thought was pretty good), and that was cool.
"Hey, how many of you remember this?" Announced Mr. P, holding up an older video. "Band camp!" Shouted Cara. "Yes, that's it!" He held the video higher. "This was the video of your performance for the parents at band camp. Let's see it, shall we?" So he popped the video in and we got to see our band camp show.
It was hilarious! Wow, did we suck! Back then not a single guard member was on time, we barely knew any work, and the band just sounded. . . bad. We were all beside ourselves laughing at how bad we were, and marveling at how good we became.
All too soon the dinner was over. My mom and dad met me by the door, and congratulated me profusely at my little certificate. I waved to Alora and Nelly as they left, and then left with my parents. "This was fun!" I announced, walking outside. My stupid dress didn't bother me anymore. "Did you see the band camp video? Weren't we horrible?" I said. "Yes," my dad said, chortling.
When we got home, the first thing I did was put my certificate up on the piano for the entire family to see. It was so nice to see it there, the thing that said, "PONRA HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND, FIRST YEAR AWARDED TO CHRISTINE VENDREDY."
Grinning I changed into my pj's and got into bed, remembering that I did have school tomorrow. And I couldn't believe then that it was over. . . my first year of marching band as of now was over. A year full of confusion and disbelief, and yet also of enjoyment and triumph. My first year, my first experience, and something I'll remember all my life. . .
((Ok, Julia, I put it up! Now all I have to do the epilogue to this and I can get started on the second book which will be called "This Is So Not My Mambo" and it will be about the second year. . . and it will be really good! Better than this!))
Reluctantly I got into my dress and tights, knowing that it was for the marching band I was doing this; not for my 1960's parents, of course. I continued to scowl as I yanked on the small dress shoes that made my feet look pointy. This was insane! Why did they have to have the dinner at a fancy place, anyway?
"Christine, are you ready?" Mom poked her head into my room, looking at me exasperatedly. "It's nearly 7:00! The dinner is in less than fifteen minutes!" "Yeah, I know." I said, giving a final yank on my shoes. "Toss that fancy purse thing in here, will you?" I asked. My mom sighed and threw a white fancy-ish purse onto my bed. Alas I could not use my regular purse, so my mom gave me a fancy thing to keep my junk in. "Thanks." I said, shoving my junk in the purse and snapping my watch onto my wrist.
"Alright. Let's go!" My mom was eager to go. I flicked off my light and left my room. Dad was waiting, and he was wearing a *gasp* suit. "Ready for the awards?" He said, smiling. "Um. . . I guess so." I replied as dad opened the door to outside. "I've never been to an awards dinner before so I don't know what's going to happen." "Awards?" My mom offered helpfully. I sighed and stepped outside, the winter wind battering my face.
It didn't take long to drive there, only about fifteen minutes, and I really did get there on time. Luckily Cara found me as soon as I came in and ushered me into the room we were supposed to be in. "You wait here. I'm going to find the rest of the guard." Cara said to me. "Mr. and Mrs. Vendredy, you can sit with the rest of the parents." My mom and dad nodded to me and Cara, and then went off to where the parents were. "Be right back." Cara patted my head (why? What is it with patting 8th grader's heads?) and went off into the crowd, leaving me standing alone by the entrance. I looked around blankly. It was very odd to see all the marching band dressed in finery. . . usually they wore uniforms or muddy clothes from the practice field. I couldn't see any of the other guard members and who knows where Cara had went.
"Christine!" Oh thank god, Alora. I turned to see Alora coming in, wearing her nice pants and waving at me. "Did you just get here?" She asked. "Yeah. Where're your parents sitting?" Alora looked over the heads of the crowd. "Over there." She pointed. "I was looking for you, with Talie." She said, pointing to Talie who came in behind her. "Hey." Talie said. "See any other guard members?" "I saw Cara, but I dunno where she went." "Alright. I'm going to find us a table." And then Talie disappeared into the crowd as well.
"Well then." I said. Me and Alora didn't have long to wait, for soon Talie and Cara returned with Alisa, Kat, Carrie, Christian (still, the only guy), Shelley, Chrisabel, and Maggie. Nelly wasn't here yet. "Is she coming?" Asked Carrie. "Yep." Replied Alora. "Come on, I found us a table. Let's sit down at least." Talie led us over to the guard table where we all spread ourselves out. I sat next to Alora and she saved a spot next to her for Nelly. Nelly soon arrived and sat down with us. . . now the entire guard was here.
The lights dimmed. Mr. Piquano got up to the front pedestal, and called the two drum majors up. "What now?" Alora whispered. "Mr. P's going to say some speeches, and stuff, and they'll give out awards." Cara whispered on my left.
Well, she was right. Mr. P gave some speeches on the year, and about the graduating seniors. He gave out awards to the parents who were involved with the band all this season. Then he said, "Now. The first years will get a certificate, second years a varsity letter (people went "oooh" at this), third years their gold bar, and fourth a rams letter (rams was our school mascot)."
"That's us!" Carrie hissed. "First years!" The drum major, Penelope, got up and began reciting the names of the first years. "Alora Julia Jeter," She announced. Alora turned to grin at me, and then went up. Mr. P handed her her certificate. She grasped it, suddenly nervous (because now, you see, we were in front of people) and took her place in line with the other first years. Mr. P continued. "Nelly Lemnos," He called. Nelly saluted me and then walked up to get her certificate, carefree and happy as always. Finally, I heard my name called. . . "Christine Vendredy," I got up, hearing the guard applauding me as they applauded Alora and Nelly. I took the certificate from Mr. P, seeing my name written on it, then went to stand next to Alora and Nelly. Even though my name was farther down the line than theirs, we were pretty close because there weren't a lot of first years.
"Congratulations, first years!" Mr. P said. All the parents and band members applauded us first years, and Mr. P sent us back to sit down. The three of us sat, placing our certificates in front of us proudly.
The second years went, then third, then fourth. Once those awards were given out, Mr. P decided to show the championships video. "Ugh," Shelley said. "We suck at the championships video." Well I hadn't seen the video yet, and wanted to. So he showed the video (which I thought was pretty good), and that was cool.
"Hey, how many of you remember this?" Announced Mr. P, holding up an older video. "Band camp!" Shouted Cara. "Yes, that's it!" He held the video higher. "This was the video of your performance for the parents at band camp. Let's see it, shall we?" So he popped the video in and we got to see our band camp show.
It was hilarious! Wow, did we suck! Back then not a single guard member was on time, we barely knew any work, and the band just sounded. . . bad. We were all beside ourselves laughing at how bad we were, and marveling at how good we became.
All too soon the dinner was over. My mom and dad met me by the door, and congratulated me profusely at my little certificate. I waved to Alora and Nelly as they left, and then left with my parents. "This was fun!" I announced, walking outside. My stupid dress didn't bother me anymore. "Did you see the band camp video? Weren't we horrible?" I said. "Yes," my dad said, chortling.
When we got home, the first thing I did was put my certificate up on the piano for the entire family to see. It was so nice to see it there, the thing that said, "PONRA HIGH SCHOOL MARCHING BAND, FIRST YEAR AWARDED TO CHRISTINE VENDREDY."
Grinning I changed into my pj's and got into bed, remembering that I did have school tomorrow. And I couldn't believe then that it was over. . . my first year of marching band as of now was over. A year full of confusion and disbelief, and yet also of enjoyment and triumph. My first year, my first experience, and something I'll remember all my life. . .
((Ok, Julia, I put it up! Now all I have to do the epilogue to this and I can get started on the second book which will be called "This Is So Not My Mambo" and it will be about the second year. . . and it will be really good! Better than this!))